


Meet me in the Hallway

by littlebodyheavysoul



Series: Hidden [1]
Category: Don't Let Me Go - Harry Styles (Song)
Genre: Album: Harry Styles (Harry Styles), F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 12:24:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20796596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebodyheavysoul/pseuds/littlebodyheavysoul
Summary: She shrugs sadly, but his thumb is there to lift her chin and make her look at him, he gives her a small smile. “It’s okay, dollface. We’ll figure it out together, won’t we?”





	Meet me in the Hallway

**Author's Note:**

> I've written this for a project of a friend of mine. I'm not going to elaborate on that, I purely chose to publish my writing for fun. 
> 
> The tags I've used are out of necessity, I've also written this while listening to Harry Styles' album.
> 
> The work title is the title of the song that I relate to the story that I'm telling. LIstening to said song might be helpful to understand the context, it is not needed, though. 
> 
> Everyone mentioned in my writing is real, these things have all happened in one form or another, and this is being used as a personal archive. 
> 
> Kudos and Comments are appreciated, those can be left anonymously at the very end of the page.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

14 // 2013

“Baby, it’s okay. C’mon now, hey, look at me. Please, babe, just look at me for a sec.” She has resorted to begging now, apparently, comforting the boy who’s sitting in the corner of the couch, sobbing with his eyes closed. She feels too tired for this. “Hey, it’s okay, baby! Do you see me? I’m all fine!”

She drives her hand through her hair in frustration, wincing when she feels the pain in her wrist. This will surely bruise by tomorrow, great.

Her eyes are swollen from crying already, but she doesn’t have the time to dwell on her own pain, she has to take care of his. Slowly she approaches his hunched over form, holding her breath as she puts a hand on his shoulder, relaxing when he doesn’t brush her off.

“Come on now, my love. It’s okay. I’m good, aren’t I?” She tries to smile, it comes out sad, forced.

He looks at her for the first time in what feels like ages, his eyes searching her face and landing on the cut high on her cheekbone. “What did you do?” He asks with glazed over eyes, looking at her but seeming far, far away. “Why did you do all that?”

She wants to scream. None of this is her fault, she knows that. Or does she? He always says that he does what he does out of love, she’s younger than him and still has so much to learn, why wouldn’t he help her out, right? He loves her, after all. He loves her so much.

She stays silent though, the sting on her cheek reminding her why she suddenly found herself on the floor mere minutes ago, it feels like a lifetime has passed since she got up, brushed her tears away, and made sure he was okay, however. They look out for each other. That’s what love is about.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m such a mess,” she apologizes and she means it wholeheartedly. She crouches next to him and puts her hand on his cheek, thumb stroking his blotchy skin, knowing he’ll never ever admit to having cried. “But you’re here and you’re taking care of me, aren’t you?”

“I am,” he sniffles quietly, before repeating in a more confident voice: “I am taking care of you, and you never seem to learn! What’s gotten into your silly little head?”

She flinches like the blow was delivered from his words, but she doesn’t say anything. Never says anything.

She shrugs sadly, but his thumb is there to lift her chin and make her look at him, he gives her a small smile. “It’s okay, dollface. We’ll figure it out together, won’t we?”

His words make her chest tighten with happiness and excitement, a promise made that she knows he would never break. She nods with a genuine smile and he leans in to kiss her, slowly and passionately; God, she loves him so much.

“It’s late,” she whispers and he agrees, taking her dainty hand in his big one and leading her to the bathroom. He cleans her wounds and kisses her wrist softly, kissing it better, the pain in his eyes alarmingly obvious but she won’t say anything. Everything he does is out of pure love, she knows that.

And when they lay in bed that night, she holds him close, because hurt is temporary, but their love is forever.


End file.
